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Our Hearts Beat as One
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Wu
Tien-chang grew up in the trading port of Taiwan in Keelung and is known for his
oil paintings and digital photography, which comment on the sociopolitical
aspect of life in Taiwan. In Never Say Goodbye he uses contradictions
within the photographic medium, its apparent reality, but often contrived and
fictitious nature. This exhibition
explores the undercurrent and sentiment of westernization in post-war Taiwan. Symbolizing
the hybrid nature of Taiwanese identity that has been haunted by nostalgia for
the anti-PROC military base used as a resting stop for American soldiers during
the cold war. Worship of cultures and products transplanted from foreign powers
triggered mass but poorly imitated gaudy counterfeits. Capturing characters in mask-like artificial
skin membranes and tawdry costumes, Wu has tapped into the kitschy aesthetics
of local plebeian culture to reveal the truth lingering at the bottom society.
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| Farewell, Spring and Autumn Pavilions |
A digital
video installation forms the central focus of the exhibition, shrouded in thick
velvet theatre curtains which draw back to show a Pepper’s Ghost optical
illusion, before revealing a short video piece.
In the exhibit's digital video pieces, Wu combines theatrical effects
with magical tricks, handcrafted props and machine-operated as the works switch
from still photographs to moving images.
The performer marches through idyllic images of the Taiwanese landscape
in a range of traditional western outfits then waves ‘goodbye’ joyfully, to a
cheerful Taiwanese them tune. Although
saying farewell, the character is marching on the same spot, the scenery behind
him only revolving, history repeating itself rather than moving forwards. Full of bright colors, like a hand-tinted
postcard, these are idyllic images. But on closer inspection each character has
strange proportions and disabilities. Each kitsch and flamboyant piece
appears as a vibrant celebration, before each tiny yet disturbing detail is
noticed, symbolizing the traumatized collective memory of Taiwan, its previous
regimes and the effects of post-war westernization.
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The plastic statue used to project the ghost image
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Integrating
moving images and theatrical space and creating interactive installations
featuring a set created with handmade craftsmanship (He painted the sets, wrote
the scripts, directed the lighting and photography, created props and directed
the acting of costumed models) so that the conflicting elements fuse into an
opulent visual style. By shooting with a
fixed camera in one take, Unforgettable Lover harks back to the
handicraft era of film as the male protagonist dances to the rhythm of music
while evolving into other characters by changing his clothes, sets and props in
front of the audience’s eyes. Part of
the charm and impact comes from the life size presentations in a darkened room
so that even though one knows that it is video it is like watching a hybrid
somewhere between video, live performance and puppet art. At best copies of the videos on line are of
poor quality or incomplete but even the best copies would loose the impact of
the actual presentation. In Beloved,
Wu wraps the female character in a delicate latex skin to create an idealistic
form of the perfect lover – amorously telling the stories of helplessness and
sadness of the people coming and going from this world.
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| Beloved |
With
an eye to the nature of the exhibition venue Palazzo delle Prigioni, a former
prison, he preserved the obscure atmosphere and historic features of the
Palazzo delle Prigioni, recounting the memories and sentiments from the past
that linger in everyone’s hearts — just like the lingering ghosts in this
former prison who are reluctant to leave, as they are torn between love and
hate for the mortal realm. The Taiwanese
firmly believe that an integral life is made up of both “soul” and “physique”. “Soul” refers to the spiritual part of human
life, thoughts and memories; while “physique” refers to the human body and its
organs. When life is near the end,
people always have an undying “attachment” to the realm of the living.
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| Beloved |
Wu
Tien-chang, "In 2000 I left the oil painting, because I had come to a
point where I could no longer say anything new through this technique. First it
was my way to criticize the political system Taiwanese, but by the repeal of
the law martial, in 1987, I found myself suddenly to have no more enemies. Then
I began to wonder about my identity as a Taiwanese. Before that date the government had obliged us
to think that we were Chinese, but later debates began to flourish on the
identity of Taiwan. There were no more
authoritarian personalities that prevented people to express themselves freely.
In 1996 the first truly free democratic
elections took place. By the time I
turned forty, I had married, and I wondered also about my personal life. Photography allowed me to overcome this creative
impasse. When you take a picture, time dies. It's like stealing. Yet the image that is produced by this
criminal act will remain forever. I
found it interesting this contradiction. From the beginning the photo was used by
painters as support in order to paint later in the study, especially those who
painted outdoors and who need a longer time to complete the picture. Photographing the landscape or model was how
to make a sketch. The First World War
changed the way and manner of photography, especially in the case of
portraiture. Such as the military that
were leaving for the war they needed to leave their portrait to the family,
because perhaps they would never return from the battlefield. That's why I fell in love portrait
photography. In particular how photography
was influenced by the book of Juan I-Jong, "The History of Chinese
Photography."
Juan I-Jong is a
photographer from Taiwan of the first generation, this book is an overview of
the Chinese portraiture. Even before the
birth of photography, in Chinese culture there was a kind of portraiture that
was called "xiao zhao." The
people made charcoal drawings that depicted the face to be remembered. What is unique is that the living person's
name as well as the name of the deceased for the portrait was "she
ying", or photography. The book of
Juan I-Jong has been an important reference, because it made me discover these
nostalgic aspects of photography.
The props, scenes, or theatrical elements used in these video installations originate from my childhood memories. When I was a child, the television had yet to reach the common household, and our only forms of entertainment were on the streets, magicians selling home remedies in the night market, or travelling stuntmen performing shows and circus acts — impromptu styles of performance that can also be seen in the commedia dell'arte. In the early days of Taiwan, performers would also build temporary stages to welcome deities with traditional Taiwanese puppet shows. Like the masks of commedia dell'arte, these puppets feature individual characters with strong personalities that can be easily identified by their external appearances. The design of the entire stage mechanism in Farewell, Spring and Autumn Pavilions was inspired by the traditional Taiwanese puppet show. In these street puppet performances, a plot involving long distance travel would be simulated by scrolling backdrops and the mechanical walking movements of characters inside the window frame. In this fully digital era, Farewell, Spring and Autumn Pavilions deliberately returned to the warm old days untouched by cold digital technology. The actors move in fast-paced and ridiculous movements, just as in the silent films, performing on a conveyor belt with scrolling backdrops while using props to change into different costumes. This costume-changing magic show is a video installation captured in a single take with no cuts, no post-processing, and no camera trickery.
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| Beloved |
The following video gives a behind the scenes look at Farewell, Spring and Autumn Pavilions being made along with some onsite into Wu Tien-chang.
And this video is Wu Tien-chang in conversation with the director of Taipei Fine Arts Museum, Ms. Ping Lin, in Chinese with English subtitles but worth every minute. Even better is a longer version of the same interview on Vimeo.